Tomato Cake
by bubbleteadesu
Summary: Because what else could Lovino give Antonio for his birthday, but a cake that looked like a tomato? -birthday ficlet for my favorite character, Spain!


**Title:** Tomato Cake  
**Characters/Pairings:** Spain/Romano, Italy  
**Rating:** PG  
**Summary:** Because what else could Lovino give Antonio for his birthday, but a cake that looked like a tomato?  
**Warning:** Lovino's potty mouth  
**AN:** A super late birthday ficlet for my favorite character, Antonio XD. Human names used.

* * *

Antonio had always been the one who made birthday cakes for Lovino.

Lovino could still remember his much younger self, sitting on a high stool in the kitchen, his short and chubby legs swinging in the air. He would watch with uncharacteristic silence as Antonio worked, creaming the butter, beating the eggs then mixing both together. Sometimes Antonio would look up from his work and ask Lovino gently if he could please sift the flour. And always Lovino would refuse. It was his birthday, dammit! Why should he work? Stupid boss.

But, as stupid as his boss could be, Lovino had to admit that Antonio made the best butter cake in the world.

Antonio never missed a birthday. Even when that fucking British pirate, Arthur, had just ransacked his Spanish armada and almost nothing was left, Antonio would still make the cake. It may have a little less butter, or a little less eggs or it may be a bit smaller than usual, but there it would be: a round butter cake for Lovino's birthday.

Lovino would eat a slice, scowl and say: "It's not as good as last year's, Boss." (Though his annoyance was a little half-hearted.)

And Antonio would smile sheepishly and reply: "I'm sorry, Lovinito. But, promise, it would taste better next year!"

"It better be." Lovino would mutter. But, frankly speaking, the cake actually tasted a little better than before.

* * *

Lovino stared at the calendar hanging on the wall in front of him.

_February 12_

Lovino had drawn a discreet little tomato on the corner of the box that marked the twelfth to remind himself of Antonio's birthday. (Not that he needed any reminding actually.)

Lovino stood up and fixed his bed. He wondered if he should bake Antonio a birthday cake.

"I doubt that idiot even remembers it's his birthday today." Lovino muttered annoyed.

Having fixed his bed, Lovino walked out of his room. He wondered if there were enough eggs in the fridge.

* * *

Feliciano sat on a high stool, cupping his face in his hands and leaning his elbows on the kitchen counter.

He watched Lovino as he began creaming the butter, the bowl of beaten eggs set aside nearby.

"Start sifting the flour and stop staring at me, will you?" Lovino snapped at him.

Lovino didn't know if Feliciano was deliberately ignoring him or he was just plain deaf for he did not budge from his seat.

Instead, he asked innocently: "Lovino, are you giving this cake to Antonio? It is his birthday today, after all."

"I'm not giving him a cake, dammit!" Lovino snapped, his cheeks burning red. "I just thought…I just thought we had too many eggs in the fridge and they'd spoil if we didn't use them up, okay?"

There was nothing but silence from Feliciano. Lovino poured the eggs into the creamed butter, smugly thinking that he had _finally_ shut his brother up when:

"You could have made them into omelettes, you know. But why a ca-"

"Fine, fine!" Lovino cut him off, exasperated. "I'm making this cake for Antonio. Happy now?"

Feliciano bounded off his seat happily. "Then I'll help you, _fratello_, by sifting the flour!"

Lovino rolled his eyes. Why did his brother always pick the wrong times to be observant?

* * *

They were finally done baking the cake and Lovino stared silently at the round butter cake in front of them.

Feliciano picked up a crumb that fell on the plate and tasted it. He broke into a wide grin. "It tastes good, _fratello_!"

Lovino picked up another crumb and tasted it. It did taste surprisingly good, considering that he had not baked a cake in a long while. It was creamy, buttery and sweet but not sickeningly so.

"But," Lovino remarked thoughtfully. "Don't you think it looks a bit too plain for a birthday cake?"

"It looks alright to me, the way it is." Feliciano shrugged. "I don't really know much about cakes though. Maybe you should ask Ludwig. Baking cakes is his hobby, after all."

"Oh now _that's_ nice." Lovino replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I bet he uses potato flour. Potato bastard that he is."

Feliciano giggled, completely missing Lovino's sarcastic tone. "Potato flour? I think I'll suggest that to him next time he bakes a cake. He's _so_ addicted to potatoes."

Lovino rolled his eyes. "Fine, whatever. But can you please shut up about the potato bastard first and concentrate on the matter at hand?"

"Well," Feliciano suggested, "since Antonio loves tomatoes, why not make his birthday cake look like a tomato?"

Look like a tomato. Lovino stared at the butter cake with new eyes. It was round and plump and, damn, it would look _perfect_ as a tomato.

Lovino couldn't help but grin at how novel the idea was. "You know what, Feli? Sometimes you surprise me with random moments of intelligence."

* * *

Lovino may be good at baking cakes but he sure was not good at frosting them.

Still, he had stubbornly insisted on doing the frosting of the cake, even if Feliciano was better at it than he was. ("I know you want to do everything for Antonio but-" "It's not what you think it is, dammit!")

But the end result wasn't, well, wasn't good to look at.

The cake was now covered in red frosting but it was not as evenly spread out as Lovino wanted. He had also colored a bit of the top portion of the cake green but he had accidentally colored out of the squiggly outline he had drawn and now the green was mixing with the red and it looked all messy.

In short, the cake did not look anything like a tomato.

"It's the taste that matters anyways, fratello." Feliciano told him, trying to be comforting.

"I don't care if it looks ugly. It's just for Antonio anyways." But Lovino sounded more like he was convincing himself than Feliciano.

He placed the cake in a box and tied it up messily with a red ribbon.

The bastard better like this.

* * *

Lovino wondered if he should just leave the box on the doorstep and run away.

"The frosting's so runny anyways. It won't matter if it melts even more under the sun." Lovino muttered to himself.

He was just about to place the box on the floor when the door suddenly opened.

"Lovino! I'm so glad you visited me on my birthday!"

"Dammit, Antonio!" Lovino spluttered out, surprised. "How did you know I was outside?"

"I don't know, Lovi." Antonio grinned. "Maybe it's my 'Lovino instincts'." He looked at Lovino then down at the box he was carrying. "Is that a gift for me, Lovino?" he asked excitedly.

Lovino shoved the gift into Antonio's arms. "It's a cake I made. I-I mean," he hastily corrected, "It's a cake _Feliciano_ and I had made. It's not because it's your birthday today, okay? We had a lot of butter in the fridge and if we didn't use them then it would spoil. So don't get any stupid ideas. Eat this and better like it, bastard." His short 'speech' done, Lovino prepared to walk away.

"But you have to eat this with me, Lovino!" Antonio pulled Lovino inside the house, whistling the 'Happy Birthday' song while Lovino shouted curses at him.

* * *

"It's a tomato!" Antonio gushed. "How adorable, Lovinito!"

"It was Feliciano's idea, okay?" Lovino snapped (while wondering how the hell Antonio knew it was supposed to be a tomato, considering how messy it looked). "Shut up and start slicing the cake, bastard."

But Antonio wrapped his arms around him in a bone-crushing hug. "Thank you, Lovino!"

"Get off me, dammit!" Lovino spluttered out, looking very much like a tomato himself.

Antonio looked into his eyes and smiled widely. "Thank you for remembering my birthday." Then after planting a chaste kiss on Lovino's lips, he freed him and went to slice the cake.

"How can I not remember, bastard." Lovino murmured, looking even redder. But Antonio was too busy slicing the cake to hear him.

_end_


End file.
